My family has never really participated in the any cultural events, not even Irish. No scary River dancing, no beer, no violent uprisings. We were Canadian from the day we landed and fully embraced the culture of apologizing and wishing we lived in a warmer climate.
So, happy day some weird dude played the flute and led snakes out of Ireland. Or something.
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| My great-grandfather Freke's signature entering Ellis Island |
How cool that you have a copy of the manifest! You should definitely try to visit Ireland -- it will not disappoint.
ReplyDeleteIt's one of our stops next spring. We are going to do the Isles. I've always wanted to go, just haven't had the money or love of travel.
DeleteI forgot! My favourite part of the manifest is that the great-grandmother of a very good friend has signed right before my great-grandfather. Small small world!
DeleteThanks for posting the picture of the ship manifest. Today, I keep thinking about the shape and limits of our family's Irish identity. English-origin, Protestant landowners in Cork County, and the last members of our immediate family moved to Northern Ireland during the Civil War, but our grandparents' generation idealized about Cork County, and wore green on St. Patrick's Day. Our family was definitely integrated into their community (however you define that), if you take as evidence the trial wherein some Skibbereen locals beat a man to death for "improper behavior" toward a lady in our family. A family member was a prominent lawyer in Cork, who was targeted by the IRA, but then defended them later. It's just all really funny, putting it together like that.
ReplyDeleteI love those little stories and wish I knew more of them. They would make a really irreverent book.
DeleteOur great-grandpa was a Dutch farm hand and is the reason Grandma gave us chocolates every New Year. I climbed up the stone house he helped build and looked down the road, where he first saw great-grandma, and where our grandma first saw grandpa. I saw some gophers and was told to come down before I fell through the floor boards, so that family tradition was broken.
ReplyDeleteI got the story wrong! (Please feel free to edit) Great-grandma looked out of the window on the stone house and first saw our Dutch great-grandpa coming up the road. He stopped to play with her nieces and nephews and she was smitten.
ReplyDeleteIrish Grandpa drove up that same road and Grandma looked out that same window decades later to pick up his sister. Not sure if was love at first sight though since they were 13 and 12.
I love this story, Saryn! Thanks for sharing it!
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